


There's No Place Like Sub-Terrestrial Hell Tube

by yelling



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, No kissy kissy or anything just not so subtle buildup, Vomiting, implied drug addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yelling/pseuds/yelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Dumpster Gremlins Do Drugs; What Happens Next Will Warm Your Heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Place Like Sub-Terrestrial Hell Tube

**Author's Note:**

> Take it from me kids, don't get invested in characters with joke names. Also thank you Maria, for encouraging this absurdity.

            No-Nose wasn’t the most agreeable person in the world, anyone that had met her could back that statement up, but still something felt obtusely wrong about running around the tunnels with her. Nasty made a point to be nice to ghouls, it’s best to have someone watching your back out here than add to reasons why you’d need to watch it in the first place. She tried to push back all hateful feelings about someone who holds back information, the slimy, skeezy vibes every bit of information she got gave her. Bobbi’s attitude alone made it more than difficult to keep Nasty’s rude comments to herself. Still, she and Mel were in deep already, the point of no return was far behind them. They knew Bobbi wouldn’t hesitate to use that submachine gun on them if they backed out on the heist. Besides they were almost there, just crawl out of the basement and-

            “Bobbi, what are you doing here?” Fahrenheit caught Bobbi looking like a cat in a canary cage. Not guilty, just embarrassed at her own sloppiness.

            “Shit.” Nasty shared Bobbi’s sentiments.

            “You seriously didn’t think Hancock would catch wind of your scheme?” Fahrenheit’s tone turned more pitiful, sad. “He took you in and now you’re stealing from him?”

            “Don’t listen to her” By the looks of it, if Bobbi could sweat she would’ve been pouring buckets.

            A familiar fog came over Nasty. The kind that usually came about during one of her and Nate’s screaming matches or those particularly tough days alone with Shaun where if only she’d spent the money she flushed on that stupid robot for just one more dose of psycho and a bus ticket. She spoke but good god she wasn’t sure even the memory den could make her recall the conversation. She only came back on the backswing before slamming the spiked swatter into Bobbi’s shin. Bobbi bent over in pain, and something instinctual, clear, forced Nasty’s bat to the left side of No-Nose’s skull. A red spray covered her vision but everyone else saw Bobbi No-Nose’s head soar over Fahrenheit’s crew. Someone made some shitty joke, something like “It’s outta the park.”

            It was a long day.

-

            “Well if it ain’t Bobbi’s little patsy.” Hancock’s grinning face made Nasty feel uneasy. Why exactly, she couldn’t place. “Wise decision, putting Bobbi down like that.”

            “Well she tricked me. She got what she deserved.” That couldn’t be argued.

            “Yeah, that’s usually how the story goes around here.” Hancock leaned against the wall. Normally she would consider something like this from someone in authority to be akin to a school principal sitting backwards on a chair to show how “relatable” he is but this didn’t feel so staged. Hancock was simply tired. So was she. “Lemme tell ya, this little tricorner hat of mine is getting heavy. Am I turning into the man? Some kind of tyrant? I spend all my time putting down the people I would have been proud to scheme with just a few years ago. I need to take a walk again. Get a grip on what really matters: Living free.”

            “Oh god don’t tell me you’re going to get fucked up on peyote and have a ‘Soul Searching Mission’ in the nuclear desert.”

            Hancock gave a chuckle, “Not anything like that, no. But travelling would be nice. And hey, some daytripper never hurts.”

            “Well if you’re up for some travelling, I’ve gotta hit up some areas nearby. Save some detectives, tear down bad-doers, that sort of jazz.”

            “Sounds like a plan.” He stuck out his hand, and Nasty stood there for some time, unsure. “Ah, not with the whole ‘touching ghouls’ thing, that’s-“

            “No, no! It’s just… It’s, uh, been a while. Not everyone around here’s exactly the hand-shaking type.”

            Hancock grinned. His teeth weren’t the best, but far better than Daisy’s or Bobbie’s. Maybe even better than some Diamond City folk? She couldn’t be sure. “Don’t I know it.” He clapped her shoulder, then creaked open the door to the balcony a bit. “Let me just have a little chat with my community, first. Give them the news.” He was almost out the door when he stopped. “You know, you might just be the right kind of trouble.”

-

            “Where the hell are we going anyways?” Hancock asked, fiddling with a hole in his coat that was caught on a mutfruit bush for the third time this week. Codsworth had offered to patch it up back in Sactuary but Hancock still felt a little wary of robots, even after getting to know Valentine a little better.

            “You wouldn’t get caught on bushes if you just wore the suit I gave you.”

“No fuckin way. If I’m going to overdress, I’m gonna wear something where my pants don’t almost fall every other step. Thing fits like a sack.” In his spite he finally got himself free.

“We’re hitting up Vault 111. We’re getting some junk I missed the first time through.” She didn’t need to look at the pipboy to know they were close, the light hit through the branches just right.

“Real fancy digs, vaults. Why don’t you just stay there?”

 “The elevator’s a real rust bucket. Doesn’t seem safe as a base unless you’ve got tons of food down there.”

“Which I’m guessing there isn’t. Damn it, Pipes asked me to get some sugar bombs.”

“Pipes?” Nasty snorted, “What, are you guys bffs or are you just hooking up under nose?” Nasty cleared the last of the foliage with her machete before the clearing and made her way to the hatch controls. It looked almost the same as it did a month ago.

“God, no, I’m not even sure she’s into guys. Much less ghouls.” Hancock checked the first aid box. Empty. “Besides she’s a bit goody-goody for my taste. Not big on the whole ‘Let me help you! You’re better than chems’ thing.”

“Been there done that?” Nasty asked, plugging the pip boy into the control panel.

“Long way back but yeah. Shoulda known.” He watched her flick the right switches before pulling the activation lever. “She was a nurse. Had some sort of kink with healing people or some weird shit.”

 “We’ve all got some weird skeletons in the closet. C’mon we gotta get on the platform now, it’s dropping fast.”

            “Hey wait up!” he stumbled after, not quite as agile or eager as Nasty. “Believe it or not, carrying your junk is a little exhausting.” Nasty took him by the hand and helped him along.

            “Cut the shit, you’ll make it.”

-

            “Hey there’s some nice stuff in this toolbox over here.” Hancock called from the other room. The tinkling of metal echoed through the vault. “You said you could always use wonderglue?”

            “Yeah I-“ Nasty stopped for a moment. Of course he had to be right outside the cryopod hall. She clipped on. Act natural. “I uh need it for a nail bat for piper. Never too safe ya know?”

            “Like she’d use it. She really loves that .10mm of hers.”

            Nasty could feel sweat start to bead up on her forehead. “Well I mean... just in case we uh get ambushed by some bloatflies, ha ha.” She leaned against the wall.

            “You ever looked in these rooms? Seems like there’d be some nice stuff in there.”

            “Nah, I was in kind of a hurry. You’re probably right, let’s go.” Just rip the band aid off, she thought.

            “So what were these things even for?” His boots sloshed through the water that pooled around the pods.

            “Cryogenic stasis. Supposed to keep all the vault residents frozen for… well for as long as it can keep them.” Hancock raised an eyebrow at her. “Hey I’m smart. Hacked a terminal in the back room. Anyways, it doesn’t look like they made it very long.”

            “One made it out, looks like.” Hancock inspected the empty pod.

            “That one’s- That’s mine, actually.” Nasty’s mouth flattened, the words tasted bitter in her mouth. Any sense of ownership over it didn’t seem right, but it was her pod.

            “What? Holy shit man. Really?” Nasty nodded. “Goddamn.” He took a breath. She sat down against the wall. It didn’t matter if she got her favorite baseball uniform wet, she had a spare one back in sanctuary. “So did you know these people or did they just randomly select them?”

            “Nah I know most of them. The two on the left end were the Millers. Real nice couple. Jeanine, the chick across from them, though? Real bitch. Said my brownies were too dry for the book club’s liking. I told her, you know what else is dry, _Jeanine_? Your sandy vagina.” Hancock laughed dryly, and Nasty gave a laugh, a short, but real laugh at her own crude joke. First one in what felt like forever. “Club didn’t really like me after that. Who would have thought a bunch of housewives would be so prudish.”

            “Eh, fuck ‘em. Look where you are. Sole survivor of vault… uh what vault is this?”

            “Vault 111”

            “Yeah, of vault 111” He pulled out a bottle of bourbon and unscrewed the top. “And they’re stuck here forever. Or, at least, ‘til someone takes their bones to sell for caps. Want some?”

            “God, yes.” She took a swig and winced at the immediate burn, a little out of practice. “You know what sucks about this place? I can’t come here without feeling weird about the whole thing. Like, why me? Why not my neighbors, or even this asshole?” She gestured to the pod in front of them. “Guy was in the military for 4 years, but no. Just me and my cushy law degree.”

            “Hey be a little easier on yourself. You’re no me but you’re pretty damn good in a fight. Preston even told me about that deathclaw you mowed down in Concord.” He snatched the bottle back and took a swig, “Besides, what do you know, that guy might have just been the worst soldier in the history of mankind. How do you know you’re a worse fit for this world than this dick?”

            “Because I was married to him.” Nasty took out her own bottle of wine. She wasn’t in the mood for bourbon, it had a history of making her an angry drunk, or worse, a sloppy one.

            “Sorry for calling him a dick. I’m- You’re dropping a lot of information on me here.”

            “Well you asked. And no need to apologize, guy really was a dick. Only married him to get my mom off my back about settling down. ‘Ya gotta find a nice man Samantha. You’re breaking my heart. When do I get grandkids? You’re killing our family tree.’ that sort of shit. Feel a little bad for making fun of her now that she’s dead."

            Hancock laughed, “Wait your real name is Samantha?”

            “Shut up.” She smiled before downing more wine.

            “So where’d you even get Nasty from?”

            She waved and shook her head, “Story for another time.” They sat in silence in that cold steel room, asses soaked to the bone in water and coolant fluid. It was a comfortable silence, one usually felt on warm nights at home with a roaring fire. Even here, down in what was essentially a human meat locker, it felt warm. Natural. It was only interrupted when Hancock pulled out some jet from his pocket.

            “Want some?” he asked.

            “Nah. Tried it back when I was working with Bobbi. Tears up my throat like no tomorrow.”

            “Alright. If there’s anything you want, mentats, med-x, the like, just ask.”

            “Med-X?”

            “You’re telling me you’ve been around the commonwealth for as long as you have and you haven’t run into any med-x?” He laughed as he pulled out a mentats tin with a strip of tape that said “MED-X” in scratchy handwriting. The thing sounded full.

            “Nah that’s not it, I just… I didn’t expect med-x to be around still. Seemed like a girly chem to me, not really the sort of thing you’d need for fighting raiders or something.”

            “No no no, it’s more of a city chem I guess, but trust me, this ain’t girly. Here, you know how to find a vein?” he put a hand on her arm to steady it but she grabbed the needle from him before he could pop the safety cap off.

            “This ain’t a first date at a gun range Romeo I know how to shoot up.”

            “Good, ‘it’s been a while for me. Being a ghoul has certain disadvantages if you didn’t know.” He took a big breath from the jet and held it in.

            “What? Are you telling me you weren’t always this handsome?”  She made him snort a bit. She found a good vein and went to work.

            “Cut it out or you’re gonna make me waste it all.”

            The med-x hit her, and oh god she’d never felt better. Never in her life had she felt so good, not even when she gave Tabitha Melwitz a fat lip for calling her a fat skank at her 7th grade slumber party. A wave of pure euphoria washed over her like a hot shower, and for the first time, despite being a few feet away from his body, she completely forgot about Nate, and about Shaun, about her back aching like nothing before all because hauling her ass halfway across the commonwealth with a back full of junk was too common an apparently good idea. She just felt so... happy. She looked over at Hancock, who was now on his second (third?) container of jet. Her hand made its way to his face, stroking his cheek. Rough, but unexpectedly warm. She could feel the electricity under his skin, the spark it made on her fingertips. He was moving so incredibly fast but she was slow as molasses. It was like holding a baby bunny in a way, he was fidgeting and blinking and pumping blood so fast but he didn’t jump. He just studied her with those huge black eyes.

            “You ok there?” he asked. She blinked hard a few times and thought hard.

            “Yeah. I’m good. You… you good?” She didn’t remember leaning in but he was so close.

            “Yeah. We should probably head out once you come down. Preston’ll think we got jumped by raiders or something.”

            “No I’m good to go now.” Nasty insisted, “I’m good,” she leaned up against a pipe and pulled herself up to a crouch, “I’m fucking way goo-“

            Oh god.

            She felt an all too well known pulsing in her stomach, and she knew it was too late. A wave of bile made its way up from her throat and she couldn’t catch it before it flowed out her mouth and onto Hancock’s shirt. “I’m so fucking sorry.” was the last thing she could spit out before her hands slipped from the pipe and she fell, knocked out cold once more in that god forsaken room.

-

            She was in and out of consciousness for a while before finally waking up on a foreign dusty cot. She groaned in pain, these cheap mattresses always messed up her back. She rolled over to see Hancock, sitting in a fold up chair he took from the vault commons. “I’m starting to think mixing alcohol and med-x was a bad idea.” Same ghoul, different digs. He was wearing that tux she gave him, and damn was he right. Thing was draped on his frame like sheets on a wire.

            Nasty threw her hands up to her face once she remembered why she was there, obscuring the ghoul from her sight. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I puked on your shirt. I’m so, so sorry.” She could feel her face grow hot under her embarrassment.

            “Eh don’t sweat it. I’ve had worse. Nothin a little Abraxo can’t fix.”

            “Still it’s just.” She slid her hands down her face in distress. “I’m so friggin sorry. It’s your favorite outfit. Is there any way I can repay you or something?”

            He sat there in fake contemplation for a while, for what ended up being his amusement and his alone. “How about… you ship Danse off to Sunshine Tidings for a while and we’ve got a deal.”

            “Oh thank god.” Despite the small size of the initial debt to him, a weight of relief was lifted off her shoulders. “I can do that, easy. You can count on it.”

            “I can always count on you.” His knees popped as he got up from the chair, “Now get up, before you start getting all mushy on me too. Can’t have two softies running around the commonwealth.”

            “Or what, we’ll get mugged by some radstag does?” She cracked her back before standing up. “You’re right, though. I’ve spent long enough in this sub-terrestrial hell tube, let’s bounce.”

            “You lead the way.”


End file.
